What Now?
by K-Shandra
Summary: Set after Somalia, Ziva Reflects


Title: What Now?

Genre: NCSI

Disclaimer: You really thought they're mine? I didn't think so. Minor innocent infringement, but I'll return the characters when done, unharmed. No money is made from this.

Timeline: After Somalia, Ziva Reflects.

Spoilers: Everything is game.

Rating: M for adult themes.

Characters: Ziva and Tony.

A/N: First NCSI fic, Ziva may be completely off character… and story may be totally AU in content. But then that's the fun of writing Fanfic.

Story word count: 6 600

As an officer of the Mossad I was taught that feelings and emotions were a sign of weakness. That they will cause you your downfall, and that as a soldier you would have no need for them. You were trained and toned to be an ultimate human fighting machine, showing no doubt and no emotion. You were to be fearless. To die in battle is an honour to your family.

As an Israeli woman you were raised to value your virginity. Your husband was to be the one to deflower you, as the Americans say. But this did not apply to a Mossad officer, and definitely not when that officer was a trained assassin. Sex was a weapon, a means to an end. I was taught how to please a man. I was sent to the brothellos were I was to watch and learn. I'd discussed seduction techniques with the ladies. This was why I knew all the moves, and knew how to best use them. I've killed more than one mark using these. But sex was just that, a tool. My training had taught me never to loose awareness of things around me, never to get lost in the act, and as a result I never gained much pleasure from it. My marks were often killed before they even got the opportunity to touch me.

Also being the daughter of the director meant that very few officers dared to seek me out. And those who did, were rarely thoughtful enough of my involvement. Once or twice I may have felt something akin to pleasure, a nice sensation that could have meant something but never amounted to much.

I was quick to learn that I preferred being on top. Men being the fools they are were more than willing to let me take charge. This habit was formed, mostly because having a panting and sweaty male collapsing on top of you was not a pleasurable experience. It limits your movements, and once done I would more often than not would get up and walk away. No, sex was never satisfactory for me. It was a means to an end.

Then I came to America. The cultural shock alone had me dazed. My father had sent me, for he knew I was not likely to become attached to people. I was one of his best assassins. But America made me soft. The openness of their culture scarred me. I found the demands women would make of men, astounding. You were treated as an equal by right, not by having earned a rank or by being the daughter of an esteemed citizen. It was a right that was granted to everyone. The discussions and the content on television was enough to astonish me. At home you would only have had access to similar things in the high-class hotels.

Americans also took simple pleasures for granted. They watered their gardens, had pools and relaxation areas at their homes that could be considered the equivalent of an desert oasis, many of the American ones looked better too. Water was not as precious to the Americans as it was to me. The thought of taking a long soak in a deep bath, unheard of. As an Israeli, you were taught to conserve water, to only use what you needed. It pained me at first to see such careless wastage of fresh water.

But like most people I adjusted, I read books, leant that water was abundant and that that I need not concern myself with it running out any time soon.

Then there were the people I worked with. Abby was a culture shock. It took a while before I got use to her ways although they still puzzle me at times. Tim was a friendly enough person, but a bit too soft for a man. Ducky I'm sure still has a few ducks short. Jenny I'd silently revered. A woman holding such a position above a man, it was not something I'd ever seen before. Then there was Gibbs, he was unlike any first officer I'd ever known. I was taught discipline from a young age that I was to listen and do what I was told. To me Gibbs at first appeared soft. He was firm, although not like I was use to. I followed orders and then some. I was fearless, my father and my training had taught me to be so. Risks were everyday occurrences and putting your life on the line for your comrades was something I was well familiar with.

And then there was Tony… At first he irritated me, a sure cocky man who thought way too much of his prowess with woman. The way he spoke to McGee was also disturbing. I could not understand it. In my training, only a first officer was allowed to address you in such a way and then only if you were reprimanded. At first many of his barbs irritated me and death threats became a thing of the norm between us. His constant insistence on correcting my english was irritating to say the least. But with time, I got to know him better, got to know the team dynamite better and came to understand how Gibbs managed his team members. I came to understand Ducky and Abby, even got to teasing McGee. And I grew closer to Tony.

To Americans it was also not uncommon to indulge in casual and often sexual affairs, they tend to marry for love or lust, which often ended soon enough. As an Israeli woman your parents often selected your husband, marriage was not based on love but intended to build aliances and to ensure the continuation of a heritage. According to my religion, you were not to look at those who did not practice it. But Tony was different.

Tried as I may, I could never understand Gibbs's rule 12… Never date a co-worker. From what I'd determined, most dates in America ended the same way as the return from battle would end for soldiers. They would find someone they found attractive, would then end up in bed together, and once done they would part, with each going their own way. Here the only difference was that it was wrapped up in pretence. He would take her out, buy her a meal, make some confessions of affection and there would be flowers and chocolates involved. This would happen a few times before they got into bed, after which they would remain together for a few weeks or so 'till the sex simmers, then end it. Utter bullshit.

As a soldier I had learn that if you felt attraction for someone, you did something about it then you moved on. In my experience the sex had always been the same and soon enough it didn't even draw me anymore. I couldn't understand the Americans, sex was a means too an end. Their depictions of shared moments of intimacy followed by whimsical confessions of love, at times left me sick to my stomach. What self-respecting woman would believe things like those, would need a man that… needy?

Tony had started to change that outlook. With time the attraction I felt for him had increased, and I'd started wondering what it would be like to actually have sex with him. That it might just be different. But for some reason he didn't realize it. He would flirt and leave innuendos without ever really doing anything, and I was more than willing to let him. I know men. Most are turned on by a tough woman, that's why they have those ridicules shows with woman dressed in scanty clothes. But no, not Tony. There was a time I felt that he would probably only get it, if I stood naked in front of him. I didn't want him to date me… I wanted him to take me to bed. There is a difference you know… which made the constant referral to rule 12 difficult for me to understand. How could it affect my opinions, it had never done so in the past.

With time I also got more and more irritated with Denozzi. He'd started dropping more obvious hints, but then did nothing about it. He'd choose girls who had little or no substance, then would seem put out when they left him. They claimed that he was scarred of commitment, and I always teased him about it. But I'd always thought that it might have been, that he wasn't as good a lover as he thought himself of being. Sex is just that, sex. And dating was a means to achieve this. I wouldn't have minded had he turned to me for release, I would have enjoyed torturing him. You see as a Mossad, I loved to see men suffer with their need for release, it was a power thing. To know that I could make them mindless with need, and I knew I'd have fun making Tony suffer. I would make him pay for the time he spent in limbo, but he never really looked my way. We had a teasing-playful relationship, because I must not have turned him on enough, which for me was the hardest part to accept. Every time he talked about another woman I wanted to kick him, really hard.

Our undercover operation was the best fun I'd had in years. I'd been determined to make him suffer for his ways. I was trained Mossad, I could pleasure a man without loosing awareness of what was going on around me, and I used it, brutally. I'd been determined to show him what it could be like, and having watched enough of those stupid programmes, I knew what he would expect from my performance. I even enjoyed feeling his arousal grow and relished in the fact that he could do little about it. That he would be left highly strung and irritated. But what I'd not bargained on, was that I too would derive some form of pleasure from the experience, and that it would lead me to wonder if there was not more to having sex, with Tony, than I knew of. So I started reading up on sex and was astounded at the amount of information freely available to the public.

What I came to realized was, that being Mossad and by not allowing myself to loose awareness of what was going on around me, I had denied myself the pleasure and the sensations that could be experienced during sex. That those pleasurable sensations I had experienced in the past, were not what I had thought to be the orgasms many Americans claimed to have, they were merely the build up. All I'd experienced in the past, was that sex had had left me highly strung, it resulted in a higher awareness and stronger keener sense of things around me. Leaving me sharper and more tuned to my job. None of that peaceful calm sensations that the Americans always spoke about.

Not sure if I should believe those books, I was certain that they were some scam, to ensure that the Americans chased something ideal. Thus ensuring the procreation in a society, were it was not expected of a woman after having taken a husband to produce an heir.

I grew tired of Tony and his ways, tired of waiting for him to do something. I had started to become soft. After a case, having realized this, I picked up someone at a pub. Knowing I needed to have sex with and the guy was appealing enough. The sex was the same as it'd always been, so much for the American's and their idols or is that ideals? It however did what I needed it to. I was once again highly strung and ready to take on the world. Tony knew something was different, I even for a moment thought that he was sorry it hadn't been him. I'd given him more than enough incentives and if he was not willing to take the chance, who was he to be put out about it.

So we continued to circle one another. One minute drawing closer, the next pulling apart. The teasing, the hints, the endless irritations continued like before, there were times that just being in the others presence would render either of us irritated, and when apart we would complain of the other. Gibbs had heard it more than once. There were times I was sure he thought that we'd broken his stupid rule, and times he probably wouldn't have minded if we had.

And then it happened. That one faithless night we gave into the need. Gibbs had been gone for a while, and without the head slaps I think the lines blurred. The first indication that it was happening was when we fell asleep on the couch, in each others arms. It had been the first time I'd allowed someone that close that intimate with me, waking to find him as close to me was like a dream come true. I'd slept breathing in his scent, relishing the contact with his body, feeling secure for the first time in years.

There was no awkwardness on waking, we got up and went our separate ways. The next time we were more daring. He brushed a kiss on my forehead as we settled to watch the movie. I looked up at him and that was all it took…

It was over way to soon. My training had once again kicked in and I had done what was needed to please him, even drive him mindless. There were tingles of pleasure for me and I'd had this insane need to hold onto him, something that I'd never before experienced. I did not understand it, I was way out of my depth, therefore did the safest thing I could do… retreat. I got up, got dressed and walked out even before he had managed to become fully lucid again. We never discussed it.

I spent months thinking of that night. That one time we had sex I knew that in some way I'd changed. I wanted to experience it again. I knew that there had been something more there, a closeness I had not experienced before. That was when I realized why Gibbs had a rule 12. No dating because dating meant emotions were involved, and as a Mosaad member emotions were not allowed, they made you weak. As daughter of the Mosaads' director, I was not allowed to be weak. I had to prove myself, to my family, to my country, to the orginazation and NCIS.

Then Jeanne happened, and I was sure she marked the end of anything that could ever develop between us. I could not talk to him without wanting to hurt him, really hurt him. I didn't want to hear about her or what they did together, I wanted her gone I wanted him to myself. I tried hard to keep it together whilst they were together, I watched him fall apart when it ended so abruptly. I stood by him to put the peaces together, whilst we slowly rebuilt our friendship. The jokes held a whole new level of teasing, we were growing closer again and I dared to hope again. Then we went to LA. With the painful memories of Jenny there's one other, one that is ingrained in my memory, one I'll never forget.

We had spent time on the beach, he had helped me to apply sunscreen and I him. I loved the feel of is hands on my body the tingles it created, the awareness of him so close to me. I wanted him to carry on touching me I wanted to touch him. I wanted to repeat with him what we had done earlier, but we could not. We met up with Jenny for dinner and to discuss the case, after which we returned to our rooms. We stopped at his and without exchanging words he pulled me into his room, and led me to the bed.

Once there he stripped off my outer clothes, leaving me in my underwear.

"Lie down on your stomach." He husked.

I was puzzled at first but complied with his request. Once I'd settled he placed a pillow below my pelvis, lessening the strain on my back. Then slowly proceeded to massage my back and body, carefully working his way over my body. My eyes closed of their own accord as I allowed myself for once to let go of all thoughts or awareness, other than those his hands were creating within me. The way they stroked me, the way his hands trailed over my back and legs. He'd at some stage loosened my bra but I couldn't for the life of me tell you when that had happened. Once he was done he pressed a line of kisses up my back, before whispering in my ear.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Will you let me blindfold you?"

"Yes."

Carefully he blindfolded me then turned me over.

"I want you to relax and enjoy what I'm going to do."

"Okay"

With the blindfold my senses were heightened. I'd received training blindfolded, and could sense movement around me. But I was not concerned, knowing that my hands were free and that Tony, despite how much I adore him, was no match for me in one on one combat, even blindfolded.

I heard the rustle of clothes knowing that he was undressing, men were so predictable and I didn't mind. I was more than willing to let him have me again.

His hands ran up my legs as he started to massage me again, slowly working up from my feet. By the time his hands reached my thighs, I was already parting them for him. Slowly he reached up pulling my panties from my body. I had thought then that he would take me, I was hot for him already. But he settled himself and drew his fingers gently over my body. Using only his fingertips, he extracted gooseflesh from me. I focused on his hands and the sensations they were evoking. Slowly he used his fingers in a gathering motion over my breasts, awaking sensations in them I had never before experienced. My nipples hardened without any direct stimulation, and when he brushed his fingers over them, I gasped in response and heard him utter a low groan. His fingers drew down my sides evoking even more goose bumps.

"Just enjoy it Ziva… let me give you pleasure."

Warm senses then flooded my abdomen at the though of the pleasure he could provoke, if what I'd been experiencing was anything to go by.

I felt him come closer not sure what he was planning until I felt him gently kiss my chest, before gently proceeding downwards cupping my one breast. His tongue circling the areola before drawing it into his mouth and suckling on it. My back arched off the bed, pushing my chest towards him as sensations coursed down to my core. He then changed over, paying the other one attention. My hands of their own accord found themselves tangled in his hair, holding him to me, not wanting him ever to stop. Slowly he moved down my body, realizing his intent I stopped him. I'd never had a man go down on me, it seemed degrading in some way, too intimate. The same as I refused to go down on a man, I was a trained assassin I had a rank. I did not lower myself to do the work of a prostitute.

"No Tony," and for a moment I thought he would stop, having pulled away from me. My body was highly strung already. His hands started tracing back up my body.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes."

Slowly he drew back as his hands moved down my body again. He settled between my legs, carefully drawing his fingers over my sex. Rarely in the past had anyone bothered to see if I was ready for intercourse, and even then their movements were often clumsy. Tony gently drew his fingers over me, opening my lips to him, his thumb brushing over my clitoris. Eliciting more moans from me. Slowly his finger tips brushed over the little bundle of nerves, I had at a younger age had learnt that it could be pleasurable, but with my training I knew that in moments of self indulgence or by surrendering to pleasure, could cost me my life. My pelvis pushed up seeking more contact, slowly he moved closer. I felt the tip of him at my lips, felt it move just inside of me. The sensations alone were incredible. I knew I was going to get what I wanted and it made me giddy.

Tony had more control over his actions than any man other man I'd ever known. I had expected him to drive into me hard. He did not. Having provided my body with an overload of sensations, I'd expected him to seek his own pleasure, his own release. Instead he moved very slowly, keeping only the tip of him inside me whilst his fingertips once again traced my body. I then pushed my hips up against him, with the hope of pulling him deeper into me. He gripped my hips, holding them still.

"We have time Ziva, be patient."

Pulling out he rubbed himself against me, before dipping only the head in again, repeating the procedure. By the third time he'd done it I was mindless, my body had tingles all over it. What had barely been a sensation in the past had taken complete possession of my body. I wanted him inside me, that need was stronger than it'd ever been before. I wanted to feel what it would be like when he moved within me.

"Tony, please."

Slowly he moved over me, I felt him slip slightly deeper into me before his body fully came over mine.

Carefully he removed the blindfold allowing for our eyes to connect. Pushing into me he watched my reactions before himself gasping as he sensations assailed us.

Once sheathed he leaned down to tenderly kiss me before whispering in my ear

"You feel me Ziva?

"Yes."

"Let your body tell me what it feels like when I'm inside it, when I move in it."

Then slowly he drew out before pushing just as slowly back in. I grabbed his ass hoping to get him to increase the pace, sure that the sensations would be better if he went faster.

"shh Ziva, I'll make it good for you this time."

Then he moved my legs slightly, before pushing down every time just gradually, until he fond the correct placement for them. His strokes causing tingling sensations up my body, which caused me to gasp.

"Let go Ziva, I've got you, you can let go."

Bracing himself over me, he started trusting more powerfully into me. Driving sensations over my body as I lost myself to it, grunting and groaning my pleasure with every stroke, I was sure it could not get better. There was nothing else for me other than that moment, the way his body moved over mine. Like it was worshipping it. I was mindless with pleasure unable of concurrent thought. I gripped him closer for some reason needing to hold onto him as my body stiffened against him. The sensations becoming sharper more concentrated. I was sure something was wrong, this had never happened before. Every stroke he made sharpened it until it was almost unbearable.

"That's it Ziva, feel it."

Then he started moving faster, shocking me. Not sure what was supposed to be happening, the sensations caused me to gasp for air. Then it happened, the first thing I registered was the heightened sensation as I rippled against him, then felt it course over my body, hissing at first at the sharpness of the sensation before grunting as waves of intense sensation followed.

"Yes Ziva, let it take you."

Tony bucked against me letting loose a bellow, letting me know that he too had reached orgasm. The sensations kept rippling over my body, I saw sparks of light behind my eyelids.

My body was filled with an utter sense of bliss. It was then that I realized why I had been trained to never loose my sense of self whilst having sex. I'd been so lost in the moment that if someone were to attack us, we would easily be killed.

Tony held me close, and for the first time I didn't mind a male remaining on top me after sex. It felt comforting, familiar even more deeply intimate than the act itself. I ran my down his back wanting to soothe him, whilst we both caught our breath. He gently started kissing up my neck before taking my lips in the most gentle of kisses I have ever had. My arms closed round him, wanting to hold him closer still as my body continued to tremble under his.

He rolled us causing us to separate, and for the first time it was an unwanted sensation. We settled with me half over him as our bodies calmed down. I listened to his heartbeat settle as his hands traced over my back, drawing idle patterns.

It was with him that I learn what orgasm was and what it meant to make love. I spent the night that night, I allowed Tony any and all access to my body. I allowed him to manipulate it and give me pleasure in ways un-thought of. I felt loved for the first time of my life and fully understood Gibbs's rule 12. Realised what I had missed out on in my life, and how this could change one.

The next day we lost Jenny, and Tony beat himself up about it, and from there on things just ran in a downward spiral. The team was split, he was placed on a boat, I was sent home to Israel. My father at that stage also saw it fit to encourage a suitable match for me, he had already selected my husband. It was time for a new David heir, I was scent on a mission what was to be my last before my impending marriage. I wanted to hate that man, he did not care for me the same way Tony did. I could not imagine spending the rest of my life bound to him, I did not want him.

When news from Gibbs came through that the team was reassembling, I returned, angering my father. I could not wait to see Tony again. My heart was pounding in my throat that first morning I walked into the building and they were all there, Ducky, Abby, Gibbs, Tim, but no Tony. He was still on a ship it was due to dock in a few days. But when he returned, things were different. Our banter was there, but the undertone had changed. We were circling one another again. Tony became more flirty at times and I returned as good as I got, I read up more. I Learnt what Americans expected from relationships, I wanted that from him. I wanted for him to invite me around for a movie, hoping to get our relationship back to that or which it was, but with the passage of time it seemed unlikely. Our time spent apart, created more than a physical distance it had caused a mental discord.

When Michael arrived on the scene, I went to see him as would be expected of me by my father. He informed me that my father had sent him, and I knew what it meant. I also knew I had no right to resist, as much as it was hurting me and would probably hurt Tony more. I knew Michael's arrival meant trouble. I just had no idea how much trouble.

Tony pushed me as he usually did. I didn't want to hurt him and the less he knew about it the better. I'd hoped he would be just a little jealous, that would've given me a reason to fight the inevitable. Michael was familiar, someone from my past, an old partner you could say… I apathetically spent the night with him, and I'd only allowed him into my bed because it was expected of me. I knew that Michael would without a second thought kill me, if he was ordered to do so. He like me was an assassin, who would kill anyone considered to be a threat to Israel. I wasn't sure if my name had been included on that list. Mossad soldiers weren't above having sex with their marks before killing them. I had to remain complacent but on my guard. I couldn't sleep that night. I didn't trust any other man enough to allow them the type of familiarity with my body I had allowed Tony. I'd wanted it to be him sleeping next to me.

I'd found some satisfaction in Tony's reactions after that. His feelings were showing, the way he tried to convince me that Michael was bad for me. Both Tony and I were hurt by my actions, when I was sent back home, back to Israel, the Mossad and my father. Vance considered me a threat, and with that departure even though Gibbs said he would sort it out, I knew I would not be returning. My time was running out. My father had made his decision… it was time.

Tony thought I was returning to my long-standing lover. I wanted to hate him for being so stupid. For not seeing that I'd rather have him for as long as I could, than play happy families with a man my father had approved of. I wanted him to know that I would always be there for him, that I would always remember him. But he was hurting.

The team later followed me to Israel, and when Tony showed up the one day, I wanted to pull him closer, throw my arms around him and hold him. I'd never felt so alone as I did in the time that we'd been apart, when I'd been unable to see him or talk to him. But Tony of all the people had to interfere with things. I'd realized before their arrival what Michael was about. But when Tony killed Michael, I was livid. Not for the reasons he would've thought. I wasn't angry with him for killing Michael, It was because he'd placed himself in danger. Because as a Mossad, I'd have to avenge the murder, I was supposed to kill him. But I couldn't. Instead I told him to go home and I requested a transfer. In order for him to stay alive, he could no longer be around me. as much as I would have liked to leave with him, he would never be safe with me, he didn't belong with me. Sometimes we have to let go of the people we love, and as difficult a decision as what it was, I had to let him go. He could continue without me He'd in the past recovered from his lovers. It would take time, but he'd always bounced back. By preventing my impending marriage, he'd also made it impossible for us to be together. I was expected to partake in the mourning ritual, my engagement had been made public, and although I would be morning, it would be for the loss of our friendship, for the times shared… not for the dead.

Romantic American notions would paint him as a hero, having rescued the damsel from an unwanted marriage. An act of a lover wronged… I've been watching too many movies. But unlike the movies, he didn't get the girl in the end, not that I didn't want him to… There's nothing on this earth I could have wanted more. But our love was never meant to be. We were worlds apart, literally.

I placed the feelings I'd developed for him aside, swearing to never again allow a man that close to me.

I stood on the tarmac as their plane took off, slowly falling apart inside as I saw the distance growing. I knew that it would likely to be the last time we saw each other. I covered my feelings, Mossad do not grow attached to others they do not have or develop feelings. He was safe as long as they thought I felt nothing for him. I would've given anything to have him make love to me one more time. So that I could tell him that in my heart he was mine, that he was the one I would remember for the rest of my life, the one I wanted at my side. But I knew he would've never left, if that'd happened. Soon enough he would find another lover and I'd become a distant memory… he will be safe that way.

I was sent on the mission as Michael's replacement. I knew there was an incontestable likelihood that I wouldn't be returning. But without him in my life there was little that I wanted to live for anymore... I felt empty, I once again had commitments to my father and the Mosaad, and I couldn't abandon them. I had to prove my alliance to my family, my loyalty to my country and it's people.

My mission was a failure. I was captured, tortured and violated in the worst possible manner one could violate a woman. The soldier in me remained quiet, she took the pain and brutality inflicted without cracking, but the woman in me crumbled. They'd tainted me.

My father had sent me out several times to die. I'd learnt that to him I was little more than another soldier, another weapon… One with a woman's body which could be used to his advantage. Every time I'd returned, he'd merely grunted his approval, saying I'd upheld the family name. I was not a son. Sons were highly revered, their trumps broadcast far and wide. They were the cause for celebrations. I paid for that fact... a son he would've rescued, as a daughter I was dispensable.

Gibbs had held me in higher regard than the bastard that spawned me. Gibbs had seen the person I was and the person I could become. He'd managed me, not overpowered me. He'd not manipulated me into complying with his demands or to act without thought for the consequence. I'd followed Gibbs's orders, not because he demanded it or expected total obedience. His orders were to the benefit of others. He'd never knowingly or intentionally flung me into the path of danger, on the contrary, he'd shielded me from it.

It was at the most tedious moments that I cherished my thoughts and memories of Tony the most. They gave me the strength to protect those I love. Those whom I'd come to realize loved me in return. They did not need senseless acts of bravery to love me. They loved the person I was, the member of the team, and as long as I held onto that I could endure any torture Saleem dished out. I would not betray those closest to me. Love only made you weak when they knew who or what was dear to you, but if it had become the essence of you, it made you stronger. They were safe and as long as I didn't break they would remain that way. I was willing and ready to die protecting those I love. But Saleem was a master of torture. He knew how to deprive one and how much the human body could endure.

Then he and Tim were there, with me. I was certain at first that Saleem had injected me with another drug, one that caused hallucinations of my most wanted desires. I had to fight it. I couldn't allow for it to be true, or they would break me and hurt those I love. Tony spoke to me, asked me a question, my reply wouldn't have been what he'd wanted to hear. He brushed it off and I told him that he should have left me. Strangely it only seemed to sink in that it was real, when Tim didn't turn into Gibbs. We continued to talk and I realized that it really was him. Then I couldn't stop drawing in the sight of him. Knowing that my body was severely damaged and that I could slip into unconsciousness at any moment, I kept to neutral subjects. He said he'd tried to leave me be, but realized he couldn't go on living without me, and fear for him assailed me. If Saleem knew I had feelings for him, they would torture him in front of me and I would break. I told him to give Saleem what he wanted. To save himself and McGee, and that I was ready to die. For I too couldn't go on living without him, it was why I had taken on that mad mission in the first place. But I'd rather die than see him tortured at the hands of a madman. I did not want to ask him questions I was not sure if I'd like the answers, or how they could be used against us. I was no longer the person they knew, I was damaged now. I just hoped that Saleem wouldn't be that big a bastard to rape me in front of Tony. Hoping he'd be spared that vision.

Gibbs found us and killed the evil bastard, I would have preferred it if they'd left me to do it. a bullet was too fast a way for the bastard to die. I would've drawn it out over a few months… torturing him like he had me. I would've taken pleasure in breaking him.

We returned to the US, and the long recovery process started. There were doctors and therapists, all to ensure that I was okay. But I'd never again be okay. I'd left my origin and had taken on a new life, devoid of my past, my believed identity. I was no longer Mosaad, I was no longer answerable to them, my father, my country. I faced a new future, whilst I tried to put everything in perspective.

I once again worked with the only person in the world I wanted. I at times wanted for him just to hold me, to soften the edges of the nightmares. But he sat across from me, barely speaking to me. I understood why… I was tainted, scarred. No man would want me now. I'd undergone the tests and although I'd not contracted any diseases, no man would touch me or think to love me again, and that was the hardest part to accept.

He'd been willing to offer his life for mine, something my own kin hadn't been wiling to do. His words had given me hope. So many times I'd wanted to ask if what he'd told me, if what I'd heard was true. But his actions since, had confirmed that it might not have been. Once again I wished that I'd rather died instead. I couldn't live like this, knowing that he'd once felt that he couldn't live without me. And that he now no longer wanted me. I could see that, I saw the pity in his eyes.

He would never again share with me what we'd once shared. I was marked and violated, my worth as a woman, was lower than that of a prostitute. I knew that once he'd recovered from the incident, that he would move onto another. One not marked and tainted like me. One who wouldn't mind the advances of men, one he could pin to the wall whilst he made love to her in a hundred different ways, if he wanted to.

What I wouldn't give to go back, to have him love me like he'd in the past. I don't need the trimmings of what Americans call romance, I just need for him to hold me again. And coming to terms with the fact that that may never happen again, will be the hardest challenge I'll have to face, for the rest of my life.

Because for me, there is no other…


End file.
